March 2017
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The Scarf is a most curious, eccentric film. Something of its oddity is conveyed by TCM's one-sentence plot summary: "An asylum escapee meets a waitress and hides on a turkey farm; supposedly he killed someone." The film was written and directed by E. A. (Ewald Andre) Dupont, one of the many German refugees working in…
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Last Saturday, we hiked to the multiplex to hear and watch the Met's HD performance of Idomeneo. Once again, the opera did not disappoint. Early Mozart and glorious, especially the rousing choruses, while soprano Nadine Sierra was a luminous Illia. A silly story, of course, but for once there was a happy ending–a young man and…
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If you asked me to guess what the word "chalaza" means, I'd say, from its sound, that it would have to be an odd cactus-y looking plant that grows only in the Atacama desert and flowers once a decade, or an extinct language formerly spoken in the southern Caucasus mountains, or perhaps some sort of…
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I had to go to the huge shopping mall the other day and let me tell you, what a colossal waste of effort! There was nothing for me. Lots of jewelry, fancy duds, shoes. There must have been ten shoe stores for the ladies and almost as many for the guys. But I've already stocked up on…
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A few years ago I posted, right here on this blague, pictures of some handsome objects that would make good birthday presents for yours truly. But one March 11 after another March 11 has come and gone, and — nothing. Not a single reader, acquaintance, friend, or relative has embraced the opportunity. There has not been…
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All my movie-loving friends told me that I must watch Kenneth Lonergan's Manchester-by-the-Sea (2016). That was before the film won all those awards. So I crashed the Netflix line and there it was in my mailbox the first day that it was released on disk. And indeed it's a fine film. No car chases, no special effects,…
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Several times a year, we attend the opera — that is, we wander over to the Metropolitan Opera widescreen HD broadcasts at our local movie theater. Last week, it was Dvorak's Rusalka –overproduced, over-costumed, a mighty silly story, but nevertheless glorious. Sung in Czech. Of course, I didn't understand a word, but then I never do expect to…
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At the Vivian de St. Vrain Theater, also known as the bedroom, pleasurably supine on what Italians call the letto matrimoniale, we watch films from all decades of cinema history. The new technologies deluge us with riches. Films arrive by mail, by download, and on TCM and MGM and Encore Classics. It's all so remarkably easy.…